This prologue is longer than usual and has lots, LOTS of information. I tried to create a good backstory why wizards/witches exist, because I don't like the ones where they say "Because I blessed every single wizard." Like, no, Hecate has more important stuff than blessing EVERY SINGLE WIZARD! Also, I don't have an editor or a beta reader soo.. Yeah. I suck. I'm doing this for #NYNB and stuff..so yeah. ENJOY!

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           Ever since the rising of her creations, the lady in dark robes and dark hair knew that they would go over the top with the power they possessed. And now, the foul wish was coming true. The woman knew one who could possibly assist her in what she cannot. Her steps were paced quickly and echoed among the shadowy corridor. Two torches were held in her hands, guiding her through the troubling darkness. The shadows seethed at the burst of light and heat coming from the torches and they quickly dissipated as she got farther to the end of the corridor. The woman's coal eyes blazed with green, matching the appearing aura of herself. She strolled forward down the path, until she reached a humble medieval door.

          The door looked harmless itself; simply with a knob and a tiny keyhole that looked easy to picklock. A light smiled formed on the woman's face. The lady quickly placed both the torches into her right hand. The mortals don't even know, she thought to herself as she raised her left hand in front of the door. Her palm sucked in her lime aura and shot it towards the door. The impact of the lime and door was stupendous, as it blinded the whole narrow path and scared off the shadows spying. As the lime light faded, the door remained unharmed. All was silent throughout the corridor, until a sound of gushing wind swirled around the woman and the door. The door creaked and cackled with noise, until it finally opened a crack. The woman let her palm drop next to her and she put the torched back into their respective places (Left and Right) and opened the door.

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            The sight was breathtaking; literally. If not for her past arrivals, she would be sure to be withering in the poison air. She was immortal, but that didn't stand for the fact she could easily be in pain. Aside from the noxious atmosphere, a grand throne lay in front of the young lady. It was sturdy and smooth, with a hue of dark maroon. The throne had arm rests built of long and thick bones held up by a mysterious gray air circling around it. As beautiful as the throne looked, the intimidating part was followed right after. Sitting in the grand chair was a tall and muscular man who radiated death and terror. His black eyes were the color of tar and brought forth a voice that could've brought mortals to their knees.

"Lady Hecate, what brings you to the Underworld?"

The woman, Hecate, let go of her now-hovering torches and let her silky tone proceed.

     "Lord Hades, I apologize for the intrusion, but I..." her voice started to fade slowly, her aura of green fidgeting slightly.

      "You what?" Hades said in a gruff manner. He had more important manners to intend to. Not that he minded Hecate; she did in fact join him in the Underworld often.

Hecate's mouth formed a smirk. "You see, Lord, I require assistance from your son."

Hades' eyes burned with a radiant purple fire. "You what?! Hecate-"

      "Listen, Hades." Hecate interrupted. "You are in my debt. After all, if not for me your Roman daughter might've been in your realm, if I recall."

Hades grimaced; but he knew the goddess was correct. Hazel would've lost her life if not for the greek goddess of the Mist. "Fine. What do you require of my son?"

          Hecate began to tell her tale. "Lord Hades, I once met a man named Gennaíos. This man was a descendent of Prometheus; Gennaíos was blessed and called his descendent. He was charming and brave, but he also had a sibling; a brother Poniriá. I blessed and had an affair with Gennaios and his brother, Poniria. Unfaithful, it might be, but they were both beautiful. Gennaios had a young daughter named Písti and Poniria had a daughter named Gnósi. They were just like their fathers; beautiful. I blessed them as well, for I had a feeling that they would bring in a new start."

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       Hecate sighed as took in a deep breath. The next part would be embarrassing to tell. "The four were cunning, brave, intelligent, and loyal. They also could perform magic out of thin air. They started to split and carry their own daughters and sons. Their offspring managed to also conduct magic. And then went on the generations, until a descendent of Poniria named Kakítýchi killed a descendent of Gennaios for no reason. He did this to many of the other descendants and others did the same to his. One day, I was fed up by the war they conducted. I cursed the race to be limited to wands and incantations.-"

    " -They could no longer simply conjure magic, they needed to learn and use wands of wood and core to do it. Gennaios, Poniria, Pisti, and Gnosi agreed to create a school for only witches and wizards in their old age. Their final wish was to make houses for each one of them. Gennaios got bravery, Poniria got cunning, Pisti got loyalty, and Gnosi got knowledge. The four created a school that would last generations.

    Unfortunately, a war has arisen by the name of 'Tom Riddle' or infamously 'Voldemort.' He has cheated death-"Hades scowled at this "-many times, and wants to become immortal and kill all that are 'mudbloods' or not purebloods. He is trying to kill a wizard named Harry Potter than will become the bane of him. Your son, Nico di Angelo, must be the one to protect Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Nico is the only one who is capable of doing this."

Hades furrowed his eyebrows impatiently. "Why? The accursed son of sea god can go and do it."

    "Your son can withstand the many trials of witchcraft and wizardry. Perseus Jackson cannot, he is still more innocent than your son."

      Hades stared at the goddess of magic. Hades knew he had no escape from this because of the debt he needed to pay. However, the situations revolved around mortals. Pathetic, crawling mortals. At least demigods possessed abilities. His son, Nico, had only just recently came back from the war. Hades did not know if Nico was ready for another task so early. He glanced at Hecate. The goddess was in need. And of all the gods she could've chosen, she asked for his son. A son of the Underworld. Maybe.. Hades released a long breath.

"Fine. Nico will assist you shortly. I deserve all credit if he succeeds."